Morning Hawk
Morning hawk tears through the land
like a lightning bolt direct and true.
Morning hawk screeches like thunder
her voice echoing in the canyons.
Morning hawk finds a higher perch
her eyes sharp and her wings readied.
Morning hawk feels strange in the light—
no one sees her, no one seeks her.
Mourning hawk watches the light
leave the sky like a dream fading from the mind.
Mourning hawk does not build a nest,
for the night has decided, and her heart is respite.
Mourning hawk knows tomorrow is no more
and how soon will she fly again, alone and free?
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